Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

But that was stupid. Angel would never go
    behind his back. He wouldn‟t sit down for a week if he did, and that would be just
    the beginning.
    “Hello.” The voice came from along the hallway. Kael turned round to see a
    heavily made-up woman who looked about forty-five years old. Was she leaving to
    go somewhere? She must be since she had just stepped out of her door and was

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    35

    walking toward him at the lift, yet she had no coat on and it was beginning to rain.
    He was about to mention it when she introduced herself.
    “Penelope Chalmers.” She held out a hand laden with gold rings and bracelets.
    On closer inspection, she was more like fifty-five but reasonably well
    preserved. “Kael Saunders.” He shook her hand. “Did you just move in?”
    “Yes. And you?”
    “I‟ve been here a few years.” He began to walk toward his front door, but she
    kept coming so he stopped.
    “I‟m having a little cocktail party to get to know my neighbors this evening.
    About eight o‟clock? You will come?” She had one of those irritating upper-class
    accents like Conran, making statements with an upward inflection to turn them
    into questions.
    “Thank you.” He smiled. He had no intention of going nor of getting to know
    his neighbors. He had lived in the building five years and had never done more than
    nod hello in the lift to any of them.
    Without warning, two hands pressed down on his shoulders, and before he
    could turn to attack his assailant, two legs gripped his waist and a wet kiss was
    plastered against his left ear. “Daddy!” Angel was piggybacking him.
    Despite his annoyance at leaving himself vulnerable and not noticing someone
    coming up behind him, Kael laughed. He looked over his shoulder into his boy‟s
    grinning face. “Angel, this is Mrs. Chalmers. Get down.” He tried to shake him off,
    but Angel wouldn‟t be moved and clung like a limpet, giggling in his ear. “This is
    Angel,” he said to the woman.
    “How lovely to see a father and son so affectionate with one another.” She
    offered a fake smile.
    “No, he‟s—” Kael began but decided it was none of her business. Secrecy had
    been ingrained in him over the last ten years.
    “And it‟s miss . I‟m divorced. Is that his actual name or just something you call
    him?”
    “It‟s his actual name. Good evening.” This time he walked purposefully toward
    his door.
    “Could you get him to turn the music down? I can hear it in my flat,” she
    called.
    “Certainly, sorry!” Kael stepped inside and closed the door. Angel slid down
    and hugged him round the waist.
    “Daddy, I‟ve made shepherd‟s pie.”
    “Great. I‟m starving.” He had gone from taking Angel to school straight to the
    gym and worked out for hours. Skipping lunch, he had gone directly to Vauxhall
    Cross to teach his afternoon self-defense class, which had involved intensive
    physical activity. “Turn the music down. Has anyone else complained?”
    “No, Sir.”

    36
    Fyn Alexander

    “I would if I lived next door. Use your iPod with the earbuds. Don‟t annoy the
    neighbors.”
    “Yes, Daddy.”
    The shepherd‟s pie was good, and Kael ate a large plateful with a glass of red
    wine. Angel served everything like a cute little waiter in one of those overfriendly
    restaurants, making little gestures when he refilled Kael‟s glass and dancing across
    the kitchen to fetch the HP Sauce. The boy was always happy to see him when he
    came home, but he seemed more chipper than usual tonight. “What are you so
    happy about?”
    Angel drank some milk, deliberately making a milk mustache and showing it
    off with his eyes wide and a big smile. “My mom e-mailed me. She‟s in London, and
    she wants to meet me outside the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden at eight
    o‟clock.”
    He looked so happy. This could be either really good for Angel—or awful. “Do
    you want to meet her?”
    “Of course. It‟s okay, isn‟t it, Daddy?”
    “It‟s entirely up to you. But I‟m coming with you.”
    Angel clapped his hands. “Yes! I want her to meet you.”
    Kael pushed his plate away. “That was great.” Angel began to clear the table,
    half dancing, half walking.
    If she hurts him again, I’ll kill the bitch.
    “Daddy?” Angel stood at the open dishwasher, his smile gone, plainly wanting
    reassurance. “I think those dudes who kidnapped me in Bosnia got it wrong.” Kael
    didn‟t speak but looked into the beautiful gray